Final Fantasy XII: 'Mist'eries
by The-Fantastic-Story-Writer
Summary: A brief moment of weakness leads to the stolen moment of time. The first time Vaan fell in battle was one of those. When all else failed, the Mist offered a second chance.


**Final Fantasy XII: 'Mist'eries**

**Summary: A brief moment of weakness leads to the stolen moment of time. The first time Vaan fell in battle was one of those. When all else failed, the Mist offered a second chance. Basch/Vaan unrequited, Balthier/Vaan unrequited, Penelo/Vaan unrequited, Fran/Vaan sibling, Ashe/Vaan sibling.**

**A/N: This is my first Final Fantasy XII story, and I hope I do the game some justice!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Square Enix (Squeenix) Squall would be married to Seifer, Cloud and Tifa would have their happy ending, Sora would officially be gay, and GODAMNIT, the DLC's for Dissidia 012 and all Final Mixes would be out in America by this damn point!**

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Vaan blinked, sure he was seeing things. He rubbed his eyes vigorously, and then looked again. Nope, it was still there. He spun around wondering if his companions saw it as well, before panicking. They weren't there. He couldn't even feel Fran, the viera usually close to areas of high supernatural ability. The glowing crystal of white magicks wasn't normally strange, but seeing the god of all creation certainly was. Vaan let his eyes touch the god in front of him warily. The statue was silent. He traveled closer on shaky legs. It (he or she?) still didn't move. Running a gauntlet-covered hand through messy hair, he gave it a cursory once over. It was a creature of pure light, pulsing out warmth. Nervously, he stepped around it. A pure white gate stood open for him. He shuddered. Vaan had no current desire to walk towards those gates. Just next to that, a much simpler, black door, shadowed by the splendor of the gates, lay, as if cowering at its grander sibling. Vaan looked fascinated, stepping closer to the black door. Thin threads of pearl-white wrapped around him, futilely attempted to tug him closer to their grand world.

They snapped, as Vaan fell through the door, leaving trails of golden Mist swirling in pretty patterns all around the blond as he left the realms of the dead.

Penelo and the others sat around Vaan's still body, mouths open in their shock. He couldn't be dead. Vaan was larger than life, the color to all their tapestries. Even Fran, who wasn't too fond of him after the infamous 'Age' question, knew that this was a time to mourn. He seemed so small, childlike, in death. With shaking hands, Penelo took the feather from his chest, the Pheonix down having failed in its task for the first time.

Suddenly, the Mist curled around his frame, wrapping in vivid colors, and not the standard gold. Gold mixed with reds and blues, lavender to pretty fuchsia. It swirled around him, sucking into his chest. Gray eyes, tinted gold, flew open. A breath was released, heavy Mist swirling in colors utterly rare and unseen before. Vaan coughed, once, twice, three times. The Mist faded away, leaving a shaken teen. He managed to smile at them weakly.

"What did I miss?" He whispered his voice raw. Ashe smiled, kissing the top of his forehead.

"Absolutely nothing." She told him softly. "C'mon, you must be starving."

They observed the teen as he happily munched away on dinner, gray eyes taking in all the ways the world seemed different. His senses seemed sharper, more defined. It was sparse, as campfire dinners went, but filling. Vaan wasn't too sure how he would handle eating meat just yet, so when Basch came back, swearing very profusely at the unsuccessful hunt, Vaan let out the tiniest sighs of relief, the sound unnoticed by everyone but Fran herself. The viera was watching him, her red eyes sharp.

Fran finished eating her meal, observing Vaan as the teenager practically _glowed_ with the Mist, his body still containing the Mist that her kind believed to be unreachable to most Humes. He had been as relieved as she, to find the hunt unsuccessful. While a child, he had proven to her that he was by no means an ordinary Hume. He had _given up_ the notion of revenge, to the point of actually becoming friends with the brother of the man responsible for his own sibling's death. Ashe clearly drew strength from him, as the Mist in her had turned as black as night with his apparent passing, before restoring itself to full capacity at his revival. Her eyes sparkled, and the darkness that had forever been plaguing her had vanished. Yes, Fran thought to herself, Vaan was a valuable Hume indeed.

Penelo looked at her long-time crush out of the corner of her eyes, almost squeaking when Vaan's eyes met hers. He tipped her a slow, playful wink, and she hurriedly turned her attention back to her plate. She realized that Vaan knew how she felt, and her cheeks burned faintly. She admired him, for all of his flaws, because he had taken care of her, and all of his extended street-rat family. That he could give up on the pain and the loneliness of lost family to pursue higher meaning to his life spoke volumes to her. She wished she could become like that. She wished that that love could be turned towards _her_.

Basch watched his friend, afraid that he would leave, disappear, or die yet again. Basch knew he was being overly paranoid, but he couldn't help it. Vaan was his dearest friend now, one who had thrown away everything he'd ever known to help him get back up. He wished he could tell the teen how he felt, but now was not the time. If he knew anything, it was that Vaan _wouldn't_ tell him no. He ached, sorely, to have Vaan as his, to be able to claim that he was Vaan's, and Vaan his. But it would have to wait.

Balthier watched the little street rat, utterly surprised. He was a beautiful Hume, whether in life or death. Balthier shuddered, remembering how he had looked, still and silent. His eyes strayed to the _Strahl_, who was perched nearby. He shivered yet again. To hell with that notion, the thought that Vaan would die under his care, and the thought that the _Strahl_ was more important than the gorgeous Hume that had just ten minutes ago lay lifeless. As long as he could breathe, he would see to it that Vaan's dreams became true. After all, it wasn't common for the love interest of the 'Leading Man' to die, after all.

Ashe didn't bother to restrain her happiness at her brother's continued life. When he had fallen, something in her heart had shattered. When he had breathed again, she had felt all of her sorrows dissipate. Vaan looked at her again, and she beamed at him. He smiled back. Vaan was her brother, and she'd waltz to the Realms of the Dead and back again if it meant that he'd stay that way.

They all hoped. They did not hope for the same things, but they all held faith.

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**A/N: Ha! Finished! It took some time, but I got it done.**

**So, this is just for those who've read my other PPG stories. The one everyone's been waiting on is coming along, just _really slowly_. And I mean _REALLY GODDAMNED SLOWLY_. But no fear, I'm almost finished!**

**This was just a passing curiosity in my mind at the time. When I played Final Fantasy, any of them, I always wondered what they thought when a character 'died'. So this little fanfiction was born.**


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